


Under the Spray

by Regina_Writes



Series: Han Solo be fuckin [2]
Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 13:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15049613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Writes/pseuds/Regina_Writes
Summary: Chewbacca approaches Han right after he’s paid his fare to Val and Tobias. Showering is a secondary goal.





	Under the Spray

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: in the beginning Chewbacca nearly gives Han a heart attack with bad communication. It feels very Dub con at first, but they get sorted out. 
> 
> Btw: You can read all about Han paying his “fare” in the first work in this series. (Its sex. The fare is oral sex.)

The Wookiee joins him in the shower as he’s washing the last of the mud and spunk off himself. 

“Can’t we do this separately?” He asks; knowing the answer is evidently “no” by the insistent pulse of the Wookiee’s cock against his hip. 

“Look,” he says “I already paid my fare for the ship- and part of yours too- and my mouth is still too sore from that.”

Before he can argue his case further, the Wookiee grabs his shoulders and spins him around, effortless against the slide of the wet shower floor. “I have no need of your mouth.” He says gruffly, and Han’s stomach drops so hard and fast he gets dizzy.

He hadn’t thought- not like this. He whips his head back and babbles “don’t be ridiculous, you don’t even have any slick, it’ll hardly fit with it, let alone without. If you try you’ll tear me in two!” 

But the Wookiee doesn’t respond. Han watches with apprehension as the Wookiee pumps soap into his palm and uses it to coat his dick. Which is a daunting sight- he was a Wookiee after all. His cock isn’t exactly built for safe passage into a human being. 

“Okay buddy, okay, but you’re gonna need to stretch me open fir-“ a warm fuzzy palm grips him firmly against the back of the neck and he goes boneless for a second, thinking wildly of wolves and submission reflexes, before bracing himself for the pain of entry the next. Pain that didn’t come. Instead, there was the slick slide of a cock between his thighs, a hand pushing them more firmly together.

He breathes a sigh of relief and restrains himself from chastising the Wookiee for letting him get all worked up like that. To be honest, the adrenaline spike has him half hard again, and he feels like this might start to feel pretty good for him if he just- 

He moves down the wall a little bit, which he had apparently started to climb unconsciously at the threat of a huge cock in his unstretched ass. The new angle is nice, the cock rubbing against a more sensitive part of his thighs now, brushing teasingly against his balls every few strokes. Just enough to keep him on his toes, not enough to get him too excited, not after what had just happened right outside the cockpit not twenty minutes ago.

Of course, he comes to that conclusion before the Wookiee gets bored with his thighs. Another squirt of soap later and he has a cock between his ass cheeks, rubbing infuriatingly against his hole. And- god- apparently Han is more of a bottom bitch than he could ever have imagined, because his hand flies right to his cock. It flutters there for a moment, hesitating; feeling the burn of soap against his rim, before a ridge of the Wookiee’s cock catches against it and his hand is very decisively on his cock, stroking. 

He loves this part, not that it’s ever happened to him before. He’s managed to keep cocks in his mouth and out of his ass up until now. Though surely this doesn’t count as in his ass. The only reason it’s even breaching his rim is because Wookiees have those ridges; bumps really, and they keep catching against him. But even that was so good he almost wonders why he hadn’t done this sooner. Though he knows full well it’s because he was never stupid enough to do it with spit for lube. Not on his first time. 

As for this specifically, he’d never thought about it, never trusted anyone to get close enough to try. Even now he’s apprehensive, just barely starting to relax into it and move in tandem with the thrusts when the Wookiee flips him around again. 

Two more squirts of soap, and that big warm hand is encasing both their cocks. He must be the most lubricated Wookiee in the galaxy right now, Han thinks wildly, even as he’s grateful for the ease with which that hand slides over their cocks. He’s breathing hard now, biting his lip, and tangling his hand in the fur of the Wookiee’s shoulder. But apparently it isn’t enough, because he huffs, and Han jolts as a finger, covered in more soap- as if they weren’t working up enough of a lather across their cocks right now- probes his entrance. There’s still a part of his mind that worries a bit, about the probing. But the large majority of his thoughts were consumed with the ambidextrous miracle happening to him. His cock is being pumped hard and fast, even as his ass is only lightly teased, and then slowly breached by a pointer finger nearly two times the circumference of his own. It stings a little, but it feels so good, being breached like that, so new. 

He’s just bringing his fist up to his mouth to cover his moans when a second finger joins the first in his ass. It’s too soon, but somehow also just when he needs it. This one definitely burns, and it’s all happening a little too fast, but that’s how he likes it. Just fast enough that he has to struggle to keep up, not so fast he falls behind. And the Wookiee is grunting into his shoulder; nuzzling his neck, his panting wet against it; turning him on just that much more. Then suddenly there’s come striping across his belly and the hands are faltering against him, stilling inside him, and all there is anymore is the cock rubbing against his and the still fingers in his ass and that hot Wookiee breath on his neck, and it’s so good but it’s not enough.

He whines pathetically and moves to touch his aching cock, nearly halfway there before the Wookiee pins him to the ground dizzyingly quick. Then a steady hand grips his thigh, pushing it up into the air- or the water of the shower in this case. It’s quickly shut off upon the realization that the water is just unsexily splattering into Han’s eyes and nostrils at this angle. Then the fingers are back again, slick with more soap; two of them stretching him open. Burning just enough to feel good. 

“Touch yourself,” he growls, and Han scrambles to obey, quickly working back up to the earlier pace. The Wookiee rumbles approvingly and bends Han’s thigh further into his chest at the same time as he thrusts his fingers into his ass. He pulls them back out, letting his thigh loose with it the motion, and then back again, pushing his thigh in. It's like the repetitions in a very erogenous workout. Burning and pleasuring in equal measure. Han furiously strokes his dick, faster than the fucking, hoping this would end with concession to his pace. 

But then the Wookiee crooks his fingers up and pushes into something he had been skirting over, and suddenly every nerve in his body is incredibly sensitive. Right, he thinks deliriously, my prostate. He hadn’t even considered what some would call the main event. Prostate stimulation. Intense prostate stimulation. The Wookiee is fingering him with such a vigor that his entire body is rolling with it, and if he doesn’t focus on the fingers, it’s almost like he’s being fucked- really fucked- for the first time. He shivers all over at that, and strokes his cock in time with his fucking, staring intently; pretending it was the Wookiee’s cock in his ass, and not his fingers. 

He comes like that, trembling and panting, stroking his cock to the rhythm, watching himself get fucked. It hits him so hard he curls up into himself and his other thigh comes up to meet the one the Wookiee has been pinning to his chest. There’s come on his chin and his thigh is sore and a bit lock jointed when it’s released. His jaw is still sore, and his ass is too now, but they’re all good aches under the pull of endorphins. He lays there panting, sprawled on the shower floor, until the Wookiee turns it on to wash the last of the mud from his fur. He starts up at that, coughing from the unexpected flood of water to his face. 

“Thanks a lot, asshole,” he mutters.

The Wookiee only laughs in response.


End file.
